Chapter 201: The "Accidental" Sleepover (Izumi's Checkmate)

The decision is made. The sheer, reckless stupidity of it is exhilarating. I am not just escaping for an afternoon; I am staging a full-blown, overnight rebellion. I send a single, defiant text to the "Team Rui" group chat: 'Feeling sick. Staying at Kenji's. Do not disturb.'

It is a terrible lie. Kenji is not expecting me. And Rina knows I would rather sleep in a shark tank than voluntarily spend the night at Kenji's place (his room smells like unwashed gym socks and instant noodle seasoning packets). But it is the only alibi I have.

Izumi just laughs when I tell her. "Kenji's? Bold. They will see through that in about five seconds."

"It is the best I have got," I mutter.

We leave the cybercafe separately, taking different routes, just in case Rina has deployed aerial surveillance (a joke that Izumi finds hilarious and I find depressingly plausible). We meet up near her apartment building, sneaking in like a pair of teenage spies.

Her apartment is just as I remember it: massive, stylish, and dominated by her impressive cosplay workshop. The sheer scale of her operation is still staggering.

"Make yourself at home," she says, tossing her keys onto the counter. "Sofa is over there. It is a pull-out, if you want. Blankets and pillows are in the linen closet. I am going to go… de-Ichigo." She gestures to her face. "This level of 'handsomeness' requires maintenance."

She disappears into what I assume is her bedroom, leaving me alone in the vast, quiet space. I just stand there for a moment, breathing in the quiet. No Rina. No Haruka. No Aiwa. No Kenji. Just… silence. It is beautiful.

I explore a little, my curiosity overriding my nerves. I walk over to the workshop side, my eyes drawn to the costumes. The craftsmanship is insane. The Valerius armor looks like real, battle-worn metal. The Zero helmet is sleek, perfect, imposing. This is the work of a master, someone at the absolute peak of her craft.

And then I see it. On a separate, smaller workbench, tucked away in a corner, is a different project. It is a cascade of soft, lavender-colored fabric, a bodice intricately embroidered with silver thread, and… a pair of delicate, articulated wings, the framework clearly made from lightweight carbon fiber, the mechanisms complex and tiny.

It is a 'Starlight Paladin' costume. Princess Astra's. But not the cheap, party-store version from our childhood photo. This is a LUNA-level masterpiece in the making.

I just stare at it, my heart pounding. Why is she making this? Is it for Aiwa? Is it for her? Is this part of her game?

"Find something interesting?"

I jump, startled. Izumi is standing right behind me, her voice back to its normal, husky alto. I turn around, and my brain short-circuits. Again.

She has changed. She is wearing a simple, oversized gray tank top and a pair of comfortable-looking pajama shorts. Her blonde hair is out of its ponytail, falling in messy, sleepy waves around her shoulders. Her face is scrubbed clean of all makeup. She looks… normal. Young. Soft. And impossibly, breathtakingly beautiful in a way that is completely different from her Ichigo persona or even her casual 'gamer girl' look. This is Izumi, unguarded.

"I- uh- this," I stammer, pointing at the Princess Astra costume, my face burning. "It is… amazing."

She smiles, a small, genuine smile. "Just a personal project," she says softly, walking over to gently touch the fabric. "A bit of… nostalgia." She looks at me, her eyes unreadable. "It is a complex build. Lots of... emotional weight."

The air between us is suddenly thick with unspoken things. The childhood promise. Aiwa. Her own cryptic love for the show.

Before I can spiral into another confused panic, she yawns, a wide, unglamorous, adorable yawn. "Okay, I am exhausted. All that trolling and strategic maneuvering takes a lot of energy." She gestures to the sofa. "You good? Need anything?"

"No, I am fine," I say, tearing my eyes away from the costume (and her). "The sofa is great."

"Cool," she says. "Bathroom is through there if you need it. Feel free to… not steal anything." She gives me a small, sleepy smirk. "Goodnight, Sir Rui."

"Goodnight, Izumi."

She disappears into her bedroom, the door clicking softly shut.

I am left alone in the massive, dark apartment, my mind reeling. I am in Ichigo's secret lair. She just confessed she likes me. I just kissed her. She is secretly building a 'Starlight Paladin' costume. My sister is probably organizing a search party.

I collapse onto the sofa (which is, as promised, absurdly comfortable) and pull the blanket up, my mind a complete blank. It is the first moment of peace I have had in days, even though it is in the heart of the enemy's (ally's? rival's? potential girlfriend's?) territory. I fall into a deep, exhausted, and profoundly confusing sleep.